


Icarus

by skyes



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Depression, F/M, Heavy Angst, Heavy topics, Injury, M/M, Requited Love, Suicide, angst without happy ending, but it still never happens, character's death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 17:29:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14025138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyes/pseuds/skyes
Summary: When he opened his arms and started to fall, he could only think of Icarus feeling the same way he was feeling in this very moment, thousands and thousand of years ago.Oikawa Tooru lost the only thing that mattered, and there's nothing left in him, for him.Only the sun.





	Icarus

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING
> 
> There are not only suicidal thoughts in this one, but he actually acts on them. This is not a happy story, extremely triggering, please proceed with caution.
> 
> Everything else:  
> I wrote this story years ago when I was in a dark place myself. It is not really a story I based on my own case, my depression came from an entirely different place, but still many of the feelings I wrote about resonates deeply with me. 
> 
> Suicide is not the solution, or answer in any case. If you have suicidal thoughts, please seek help. It gets better, I promise.  
> http://ibpf.org/resource/list-international-suicide-hotlines
> 
>  
> 
> I'm still not a native speaker, so please forgive me for my mistakes as always

There were a lot of things you could say when you talked about Oikawa Tooru, he had many horrible characteristics and even more flaws, but the fact remained: he never lied to himself. He was a shitty person, no doubt about that.

He lifted his head, leaning it back to his locker, and the iron gave out this loud noise, as he was banging it with the back of his head, the cold of the material almost froze his brain out, not that it was actually possible to freeze a brain. He wanted to stop thinking, but clearly, hurting himself wasn’t enough to empty his head. He could still see Iwaizumi’s face on the screen of his closed eyelids, how couple of minutes ago Iwaizumi turned the lights off, and slammed the door behind himself. The vice-captain was so angry, that Oikawa couldn’t even remember when was the last time he had seen the other boy like that, if ever. He wasn’t sure when was the last time when they actually had a fight.

When was the last time when he called him Hajime instead of Iwa-chan? When was the last time when the never used name  _ Tooru  _ slipped out of Iwaizumi’s mouth?

_ You are an idiot, Tooru. _

Only five words, on that disinterested voice Iwaizumi almost never used.

_ A stupid, fucking asshole. _

Oikawa didn’t even argue. He couldn’t, really. Was he an idiot? No doubt. Asshole? He would've actually deserved an award for that, like the one he’d gotten for being an amazing setter. And, to be honest, he didn’t really care. And this was the most horrible about this entire thing that was going down, probably. 

His brain slowed down, his knee was hurting him so badly he could see black dots dancing before of his eyes when he opened them. 

Why was he even coming here still?

_ You are an idiot, Tooru. _

Okay, so maybe he shouldn’t have been a jerk, especially not when he was talking to Iwaizumi, but he was sure that there was no other way to make the other boy leave him alone. And Oikawa didn’t want to see anyone. Or maybe… he didn’t want to be seen by anyone. 

Not that it was possible, really. He was almost one hundred percent sure that no one had seen the real Oikawa Tooru, except for maybe Iwaizumi Hajime, whom he successfully casted out as well. As for him, he wasn’t really okay with Iwaizumi seeing him either, even if it was something inevitable, considering how much time did they spend together. Also, it would have been a lie to say that it didn’t feel good to drop the mask every now and then, and Oikawa never lied to himself. 

Even if there wasn’t anything under the mask. He could still remember the terror on Iwaizumi’s face when he first realized that there were  _ nothing  _ under the mask. Nothing that he could call a person at least. 

He stood up, and it was a hard thing to accomplish: his sweatpants got caught in one of the locker keys that someone forgot in the lock. They were simple sweatpants, not the ones with the name of the team on them. After all, he wasn’t a captain anymore. He wasn’t even a team member. 

_ He was nobody. _

It was hard to stand. If he thought everything through rationally it was impossible for him to get home alone in the state he was, but he couldn’t call Iwaizumi back. He would crawl home if nothing else, but he wouldn’t call for help.

He didn’t change, he wasn’t even sweaty, his knee gave up before he could get warmed up, or play the nostalgia game they were invented to, with the younger team members. He put his coat on, then his scarf, looked into his bag in hopes of finding a painkiller, and when he was convinced that there were none, and only god could help him, he stepped out of the door. He didn’t let the limp to show, it didn’t matter how much his knee was hurting, he couldn’t bear the thought that someone might see him in such state. He hated the fact already that every member of the team could see how he needed Iwaizumi’s help to leave the court. 

He stopped by the gates of the school for a moment. He needed all his strength to not lean on one of them as he breathed out slowly. His breath left tiny white clouds in the chilly air, as it left his mouth.

The way home seemed way too long.

He should’ve been hurrying up, he didn’t want to be here once the practice was over, and yet, he left the school grounds slowly. Careful, cautious steps. Pain that seemingly didn’t want to end burned in his knee. Discursive, half empty thoughts.

And the knowledge:

_ Icarus flew too high. _

\--

There was sport scholarship no more. He understood, his eyes recognised the letters, the words, the sentences, but his brain couldn't comprehend. Of course, this could've been expected - he blinked - he knew it fully well. His doctor said that it would take at least half a year to get better and he would need another six months of physiotherapy. One full year. And who knew if he could go back to the way he was? Sure, he could get a year off. His dad would be okay with it, of course, but…

_ An entire fucking year.  _

He balled his hands into fists, the paper crumpled between his fingers, cutting his thumb; one ruby drop of blood fell from the shallow wound.

He wanted to kick something  _ so bad. _

“Too-chan!”

The voice of his mother pulled him out of the red mist of anger, the stupor he fell into. He could hear the woman stepping out of the kitchen, but Tooru couldn’t wait for her, he was not in the mood to face his mother, or anyone really. He let the paper fall, and before his mom had the chance to chase after him, he grabbed his coat, pulled his shoes on with fluid movements, and stepped out of the door.

He felt a lump in his throat, and he wanted to cry, to scream, to smash a playground, or pick a fight with someone, or kiss someone’s brain out, or have sex and sweat it out, or just play volleyball…

Ah, yeah. And a healthy knee would’ve been good, too.

When he felt like he was far enough from home, he stopped, crouched down and laced his shoes, then he just stayed like that, doubled-over, his face buried into his hands.

Fuck everything.

He wanted to die.

He wanted to burn away till there was nothing left of him.

He was Icarus, there was nothing else left but to burn, right?

He had been fighting for so long, he tried to prove that he was  _ good,  _ good enough, as good as any born-genius, and yet, he couldn’t move forward. He was stuck. It was all for nothing.

He sat on one of the swings in the playground, the chains fitted into his palms just so, cold and sure, and his head was empty. The swing creaked loudly, and his nose was cold.

“Oikawa.”

Iwaizumi’s voice was calm and distant, and so Oikawa thought it only existed in his head. But then he looked up, and he was right there. Iwaizumi was always there.

“You calmed down?” he asked, his hands in his pockets, he stood on the other side of the playground’s fence.

“Hey, Iwa-chan.”

“You look like someone who’s considering suicide,” the older boy said. There was no answer, only silence. Oikawa couldn’t look at him.

Sometimes he just hated Iwaizumi. He hated him, because he was by his side since they were kids, he didn’t leave him when everyone else did, he didn’t leave, when volleyball became more important than anything else in Tooru’s life: it became more important than romance, friendship, or family. He didn’t leave, when he realised that Tooru was an asshole, a shitty person. He didn’t leave when the mask came off and he first saw Tooru’s real face.

_ He hated that Iwaizumi Hajime knew the real Oikawa Tooru. _

And he still didn’t leave. Oikawa hurt his pride yesterday, he knew, he said things that weren’t true, and words fell from his lips with the intent of hurting Iwaizumi. And yet, Iwaizumi came back. He didn’t leave him to his own devices.

And he saw right through him.

“Tooru,” he sighed. Oikawa looked up. “I want to hear the truth. Now.”

“I love when you’re this authoritative, Iwa-chan,” he forced out a chuckle. It was almost frightening, even to him, how easily his features slipped into disinterest and fake generosity. But this time Iwaizumi didn’t let him get started on his usual bullshit. So Oikawa opened his mouth, again, the question, “Where were you?” slipped out. He’d rather not answer  _ his best friend’s  _ question. 

Hajime looked nice, by the way, he was wearing jeans and a black coat.

“I had to meet up with someone.”

“Yo never told me you were dating~”

The words were cheerful, but his insides were clenching up, and it  _ hurt.  _ Iwaizumi sighed.

“Noone’s at home. Wanna come over?”

Oikawa didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t in the mood for  _ anything _ , but Iwaizumi was different. And if he was honest, it would’ve been nice to talk to someone about the sport scholarship. The older teen would figure it out sooner or later. It was easier to tell him face to face rather than Iwaizumi hearing it from someone else.

“Yeah, okay. Let’s go.”

They weren’t in a hurry, they walked slowly next to each other, and Iwaizumi wasn’t prodding on the topic of Tooru being depressed as fuck anymore. 

He didn’t know why, or where the thoughts come from, but as they were walking in silence, Tooru was remembering suddenly: of Aya, and how they’d broken up, the honest and sad face of the girl, her features only half-lighten by the lights of the empty school gym. The other half of her face got lost in the shadows of the darkness that was flowing out of the equipment room.

 

_ “I’m sorry, Tooru,” she said on a low, but steady voice, looking right into his eyes. Oikawa was’t used to that, girls talking to him like that, but that was the main reason of him choosing Aya. She wasn’t like everyone else. In her eyes there was only soft and warm love, not the infatuated admiration people usually looked at Tooru with. _

_ Gods, he wanted to love this girl so much. _

_ “I don’t want to be the second anymore. Or the third. I never wanted to be. I’m not a loser, I’m not able of accept defeat, we’re a lot alike in that department,” she chuckled softly. _

_ Oikawa wanted to say something. He wanted to say ‘I love you’, he wanted to say that he can put Aya on the first place, that he could do that… _

_ But Aya did not deserve lies. Not when she was standing before him like this, her small palms bracketing his face, some deep, endless sadness lurking in her eyes, but still smiling. So, he didn’t say anything at all. _

_ “I wish you success, and I hope you’ll love volleyball like this forever.” _

_ Tooru was looking at his girlfriend without blinking. Or  _ ex- _ girlfriend, he supposed. Aya pulled her hands away, and wrapped her arms around his neck, she had to stand on her tiptoes to reach him, to pull him down a bit. _

_ “I’m so sorry, Tooru,” she whispered into his ears, “I’m so sorry that you’re not capable of love, and only volleyball is there for you.” _

‘You don’t love anybody, Tooru,’  _ the words came to him but not on Aya’s voice, he heard them from someone else last time. _

_ “I’m sorry you couldn’t show yourself to me,” she continued, choking on the words. _

_ He didn’t want the embrace to end. He didn’t want Aya to leave, he didn’t want this warmth from the girl’s body to disappear. He wanted to bath in it, like when they were having sex, and she wrapped around him, filled him, like he was  _ somebody _. He didn’t want to lose that. _

_ But Aya did not deserve lies. _

_ “I want to love you, Aya. I want to love you so much,” he mumbled, his voice husky. He didn’t even add his usual endearment to the girl’s name. He finally lifted his arms, wrapped them around Aya’s waist, pulling her to himself. It was so warm, she was so warm, and Tooru could never be like her. _

_ “I know,” she assured him, her voice all kindness and affection as she caressed his hair. “I love you.” _

_ And that was it. She pulled out of the hug, and walked out of his life, just like that, without anger, without drama, without fights, and Oikawa didn’t understand why. Aya knew so much about him: he knew about the masks, but never asked to peek under them, if he didn’t want to remove them. Aya knew that volleyball beat her to the first place on Tooru’s list of importance. And for some reason, Tooru suspected that Aya knew, she wasn’t even the second on that list, only third. _

_ Oikawa wasn’t sure about love and how does it feel to love someone, be in love with someone, but he felt for sure, that if someone in his heart was close to that place, to that emotion, it wasn’t Aya. _

_ It was Iwaizumi Hajime. _

You don’t love anybody, Tooru.

_ They were fifteen, when Iwaizumi said that. It had been a warm day in summer, like the one Aya said her goodbye to him. They had been walking home, when an unsure and insecure _ ‘I love you, Hajime’  _ slipped out of his mouth, but Iwaizumi hadn’t even been surprised. The answer came from him naturally, like an utmost truth, and Tooru felt himself crack and break under it. _

You don’t love anybody, Tooru. I don’t think you’re capable of it.

\--

The Iwaizumi Family Home was small, and the older boy was moving around with familiarity, put on some water to boil for their tea, sat Tooru down by the table, the leaned to the wall, and looked at the younger one, brows furrowed.

“And now you’re gonna tell me what your problem is,”  he ordered, but Oikawa only shrugged, and turned his head away, pouting. “Let’s drop the act, Tooru.”

“They won’t give me the scholarship.”

There was only silence between them for a moment. Then Iwaizumi let out the air he kept in.

“And?”

Oikawa looked at him so suddenly he got whiplash, but Iwaizumi only folded his arms and looked at him, his face betraying nothing.

“And?!” Oikawa’s voice reached an unusually high pitch.  

“You can still go to whichever university you want to go to, you don’t even have to exert yourself. Losing the sport scholarship only means that you won’t be on the team by default. And then what? Your knee will heal, and they’ll beg you to come. Only idiots wouldn’t do that,” Iwaizumi said simply. Tooru gaped at him.

“It’s not that simple!” he forced out finally, looking down.

“Yes, it is that simple. You have no idea about anything,” Hajime said, shrugging.

“Then enlighten me!”

“They didn’t offer anything to me.  _ You _ make me amazing, and without you I wouldn’t have a chance as a starting member, I never had. Yet, I’m not whining here, because you’re better than me, and you will always be better than me. I accepted it. But that doesn’t mean that I’m not doing everything from my power to get closer to you, to minimize the gap between us. Tooru, you live your life as if you’re the center of the universe. You’re the conductor. But the planets revolve around the sun, whether you like it or not. So it would be nice if you finally started to look at things as they are and not as you want them to be. You’re already eighteen.” 

Oikawa felt like someone slapped him. Iwaizumi had never before told him what he thinks of him this openly. Of course, he gave him a piece of his mind before, not just once, but those times weren’t like this. This honest. Iwaizumi always forgave him his missteps, his flaws, and Tooru, for a moment, wanted that Hajime, the one who clapped his shoulder, caressed his head, and then let it all go. But that Hajime wasn’t here, not this time. Iwaizumi continued with the cruel truth, the one Tooru knew already, but didn’t want to face it, and even less did he want someone else to make him face it. He couldn’t handle it as it was.

“You can’t be the sun, Tooru. You can’t reach it. But even if so, giving up is the most pathetic thing you could do. And you’re usually not pathetic, Tooru. Don’t start now. It’s fucking disappointing.”

“If I didn’t disappoint you till now, this won’t change a thing,” he murmured in the end. Hajime only raised a brow. 

They sat quietly for a few minutes.

Iwaizumi didn’t understand him or anything. Tooru was sure of that. He didn’t understand that Tooru’s knee  _ would not get better.  _ He didn’t understand that  _ nothing ever would be the same. _ Noone did.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were dating someone?” Oikawa asked suddenly. Iwaizumi looked back at him, surprised. 

“Because I’m not dating anyone,” he said. “I met Aya, she helped me out with some books on entrance exams. That’s all.”

_ Aya. _

“Why did you break up with him? She was good for you,” Iwaizumi said off-handedly. Oikawa snorted.

“Sure. But I wasn’t good for her.”

“The Great Oikawa Tooru admits that he is indeed not perfect. What a day.”

“Stop that, Iwa-chan. And anyway, Aya broke up with me, not the other way around. She couldn’t be fooled, she knew I wasn’t in love with her.”

“Heee.”

“‘Cause I don’t love anyone. I’m not capable of such feelings.”

Was it a shitty move to bring those words back? Without doubt, the silence between them was proof enough, it was deep, filling the kitchen, Tooru couldn’t even hear them breathe. He lifted his head, looking at Iwa-chan’s face, into his eyes, for real, he didn’t even blink. Hajime, of course, stood his ground.

“What are you talking about?”

“Do you really want to do this, Iwaizumi?”

The older boy tipped his head down, and Oikawa knew that Iwaizumi knew exactly, what he was hinting, and most likely suspected what went down between him and Aya, too.

Throughout their whole conversation this was the first time Iwaizumi seemingly didn’t know what to say. Their tea got cold, and neither of them touched their cups.

“Was it necessary to bring this up?”

“Just because we don’t talk about it, the problem still exists. You may think that I’m not capable of such complicated emotions as love, but it does not mean I don’t need it. I’m Icarus, and I’m already burning.”

“You’re an idiot, not a tragic greek hero,” Iwaizumi snorted. “And you look very much alive…”

“Don’t change the subject, Iwa-chan.” 

Iwaizumi took a deep breath, and buried his face into his hands, Oikawa could see how his fingers were white with the force he pushed them to his skin. For some reason, Tooru’s heart rate picked up. Like he was in panic.

Hajime slowly opened his mouth.

“You might think so now, Tooru. You might want to be in love, because you don’t have anything to do, and this is how you replace or fill up the hole. Maybe you are attracted to me for some mysterious reason. I’m not saying it’s not true, ‘cause I can’t see what’s in your head. I don’t even want to see, if I’m honest. But what if volleyball comes back? I don’t want to do this; it’s not because we’re both boys, it’s because I’m not a freaking masochist, I don’t like when it hurts. And it would hurt. I’m not an idiot.”

“Or maybe I’m not replacing. Maybe I’m in love with you, Hajime,” Oikawa offered, vulnerable and honest.

Iwaizumi didn’t have a reply.

Tooru felt pain, as he understood the meaning of the words. Hajime loves him, probably. He’s even attracted.

But unlike Tooru, he doesn’t need someone else to push him to move on.

They didn’t feel the same way.

He was pathetic. Ha had always been pathetic.

\--

They stopped talking to each other, and the weather became colder and colder by each passing day. His own selfishness made Oikawa sick, because when he couldn’t play volleyball, the only thing that filled his head was the need he felt. He needed Iwaizumi. He wanted him to become his and his alone. That was it.

That was love, for him.

Who said that the desire to possess couldn’t be born from love? Who decides what does each of the feelings mean?

Tooru finally realised that Iwaizumi was afraid of him. He was afraid of being hurt. He couldn’t blame him for that, he understood why he felt that way. But it was Hajime’s problem, not his. He wouldn’t have cared even if he’s best - and let’s be honest, only - friend was downright frightened of him.

Not till he could stay close to him. But now… they weren’t close anymore.

He had to walk to school alone, Iwaizumi’s familiar, calming figure disappeared from his side. Disappeared from the corridors. It was almost like he fell off of the face of earth. Tooru could still see him enter a classroom, or when he was talking to Aya in front of the library’s door, or leaning to the door of the gym for a couple of moments, looking at the new team.

He could see him, but couldn’t reach him.

It wasn’t like Iwaizumi was avoiding him, on the contrary. Tooru just couldn’t handle the emotions growing in his heart, because Hajime didn’t accept them, and they were pouring out of him in waves, suffocating him. The gaping hole volleyball left in him was unbearable, he couldn’t even  _ run _ his frustration out, and he was growing closer and closer to his breaking point

He was Icarus. They told him not to get too close to the sun, but he didn’t listen, the height was too enticing to say no to it.

Then he fell. Right into the sea.

Tooru didn’t know how to find his way back to reality.

He wasn’t even sure he wanted to.

\--

Oikawa Tooru was a fucking coward. A bastard. Nobody ever told him that, it was something he thought of himself. And his opinion didn’t change when he got on the train. It didn’t change when the icy November-wind blew into his face on the shore.

It didn’t change, even when he stopped to the very edge of the cliff

No. Suicide remained the last haven for fucking cowards like himself, always. Or maybe it was for the braves. He couldn’t decide.

When he opened his arms and started to fall, he could only think of Icarus feeling the same way he was feeling in this very moment, thousands and thousands of years ago. Cold, black waves closed up over his body, and then nothing.

He was Icarus. He longed for the sun. But there was no sun that could have reached and warmed up the unbreakable coldness and darkness of death.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I still have twitter I don't really use, but maybe you should talk to me there? You definitely could :) [twitter](https://twitter.com/skyestale)


End file.
